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I’m stillin shock as Papa introduces me to the guests sitting around the long dining table while Mama casts me looks that promise retribution for my lateness. None of my brothers are here today. Nikolai is serving in the army, Konstantin flat-out refuses to come to these events, and Valery is attending summer school in Amsterdam. Good for them. I wish I were anywhere but here, withhim.
Alexei Leonov.
He’s not here by himself either. His father, Boris, is also my parents’ guest tonight, which is about as insane as the Montagues hosting the Capulets. Okay, maybe that’s too dramatic—we’re not actively at war with the Leonovs, and I’m certainly no Juliet—but our families are far from friendly. The animosity goes all the way back to the time when Alexei’s grandfather framed mine for disloyalty to the Communist regime and got him sent away to a Siberian labor camp. My grandfather somehow made it out after two years and promptly turned the tables on his enemy, gettinghimsent away to the labor camp on a similarly trumped-up charge.
Yep, good old Soviet fun.
In any case, the Leonovs are bad news. That’s been drilled into me since I was old enough to walk. They may be almost as rich and powerful as we are, but they lack our sophistication and polish. They’re basically extremely wealthy thugs, their wealth acquired through even more unsavory means than ours. In the past, a fair amount of blood was spilled between our families’ underlings, and in recent years, Papa would often come home in a terrible mood because of something the Leonovs had done, like undercutting him on a business deal or sabotaging some factory.
All of this is to say that I have no idea why the Leonovs are here and why Papa is introducing me to his sworn enemy as if they were best friends.
“—is my youngest,” he’s saying proudly to Boris when I tune back in. “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”
“She’s going to be a model,” Mama chimes in. “All the agencies are interested in her.”
Fuck. She did send in the pictures. Well, whatever. I have no intention of modeling anything. When I grow up, I’m going to be a video game developer. Konstantin is already teaching me some basic coding skills.
“Yes, beautiful,” Boris agrees in a gravelly voice, dispassionately studying me with eyes as dark as his son’s.
An involuntary shudder skates down my spine. If Alexei scared me a bit toward the end, this man downright terrifies me. I know now what I saw in Alexei’s eyes besides derision. I know it because his father radiates it.
Cruelty. Darkness. I feel it as viscerally as the cold caress of a blade.
Now that I’m meeting the man, I believe every scary rumor about him—and about his sons. Especially Alexei, the older one.
I’ve been trying to avoid looking at him, but something keeps drawing my gaze to his face—a face as hard and impassive as his father’s. There’s no trace of recognition in his cold, dark eyes, no hint that we’ve already met and that he’d kept me from falling on my ass and called me “beauty.”
Just thinking about it makes my arms tingle where he gripped me.
By all rights, I should tell Papa about seeing Alexei upstairs in his office, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to do so. Everything about that encounter has unsettled me, to the point that all I want is to survive these introductions and go hide out in my room.
Alas, that’s not to be. As soon as the introductions are over, Mama makes me sit beside her at the table while Papa launches into a long toast about partnerships, friendships, and all kinds of bullshit. Worse yet, the entire time I have to fight the urge to stare at Alexei, who’s acting like I don’t exist. Ignoring me completely, he converses with a middle-aged man sitting to the right of him. Ivan somebody—a politician, I think. I zoned out during most of the introductions.
Mama plates some food for me and pours me a glass of wine, so I can toast alongside the adults. I dutifully take a sip when Papa finally finishes the toast, and then I pick at my food for the next half hour, my appetite nonexistent.
“Alinochka, why aren’t you eating?” Mama asks with a frown when she notices.
I shrug. “You want me to be a model, don’t you? Models don’t eat.”
She gives me a dark look, and I know that if it weren’t for all the people sitting around us, she’d rip me a new one. As is, she smiles tightly, as if I’ve just made a joke, and changes the subject to our upcoming vacation in Cyprus.
I pick at my food some more, mostly for Pavel, who worked hard to prepare these dishes, and then I excuse myself to use the restroom. I’m hoping nobody notices when I don’t return. By now, most of the people here are three sheets to the wind with all the nonstop toasts.
Most but not all. As I’m leaving, I catch Alexei’s eyes on me—icy dark and not the least bit inebriated.
I guess he does know I exist.
My chest feels tight as I run up the stairs and hurry to my room. It’s not until I shut the door behind me that I’m able to take a full breath. Plopping onto my couch, I put in my earbuds and turn on my game, but it doesn’t help.
When I fall asleep two hours later, I’m still thinking about our encounter, still feeling unsettled and strangely unsafe.
Chapter3
Present Day, Location Unknown
Iwake up to blinding sunshine and the sound of ocean waves.
Wait, ocean waves? What the fuck?
